The Autumn Blues-- and Greys, Pinks, Limes, and Citrus

8:40 a.m. and the outside lights haven't turned off yet.

Fall brings grey skies with little sun. We have lots of rainy days here. The plants look tired, and darkness creeps in from both edges of our day. Some of us embrace the change, and some of us are prone to seasonal melancholy. It sneaks up on us. I had a moment the other day when I was thinking of my brother whom we lost a couple years ago. It blind-sided me from out of the blue while I was driving, and I remembered what someone told me along these lines:

If you find yourself caught by the current, breathe slowly, and don't fight it. Swim with it. You will float, and come to shore on your own.

So, once again, I heeded her advice, and it was good. I realized, though, I was burying the feelings instead of dealing with them, and wondered what I could do to change my perception. 

I looked around me at all the grey, and I saw the pink anemones still blooming their pretty little heads off. The plumbago and toad lilies in deep purple, the hostas in citrusy-lime fading out, and saw nature's last little cue to me to observe what was really there yet. It was still so beautiful. I ran downstairs and started pulling fabric. Yes, indeed, there is such a thing as color therapy.

It's all translating into another quilt project. Something organic in nature, with all those perfect 'fall' colors, and many shades of grey. I needed an emotional connection and investment to start a new project, and shift my perception of this time of year. 

It's all good here. 

I'll just piece away. 

I'll let it unfold, and work itself out on its own today. 

Come on, Doxie Girls.

It's Friday, and a good day to go sew.